Barnabee was not a particularly large dog, nor especially fast, nor even all that good at catching things that were thrown directly to him. But what Barnabee was, without question, was determined.
Every morning, just as the sun stretched its first pale fingers across the yard, Barnabee would sit by the back door. Not scratch it. Not bark. Just sit—perfectly still, like a statue with floppy ears—waiting. He believed, with his whole heart, that if he waited patiently enough, the door would open faster.
It never did.
But Barnabee didn’t let facts interfere with a good system.
One morning, something unusual happened. The door opened earlier than expected. Barnabee blinked, stunned. It worked, he thought. His method—his quiet, noble vigilance—had paid off. From that moment on, Barnabee considered himself not just a dog, but a strategist.
Outside, the world smelled especially important that day. The grass held secrets. The wind carried messages. A squirrel—his lifelong rival—sat on the fence, flicking its tail like it knew something Barnabee didn’t.
“Today,” Barnabee decided, “is the day.”
The squirrel bolted. Barnabee charged after it with all the enthusiasm of a creature who had never once caught a squirrel but believed deeply in personal growth. Around the yard they went—past the tree, over the patch of dirt Barnabee had been “working on” for months, and straight toward the garden.
The squirrel vanished up the fence in one graceful leap.
Barnabee, however, skidded to a stop… directly into a flowerpot.
There was a crash. Dirt everywhere. A single daisy now stuck triumphantly to his head.
Barnabee froze.
Then, slowly, he sat down.
This, too, he decided, was part of the plan.
When you found him, he didn’t move—just sat there with the daisy perched like a crown, looking oddly proud of himself. You couldn’t help but laugh, which Barnabee took as confirmation that he had done something extremely impressive.
Later, after the dirt was brushed off and the flowerpot situation addressed, Barnabee returned to his post by the back door. He sat, calm and focused.
Because tomorrow, surely, the door would open even faster.
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